


It's All Because of You

by seecwrite



Category: British Actor RPF
Genre: F/M, Falling In Love, Love, My First AO3 Post, Romance, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-18 17:48:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29493834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seecwrite/pseuds/seecwrite
Summary: After a messy and scary divorce, you decide to move to Wales for a fresh start. New place, new people, new you, even a new dog. While you made a pact to stay away from men as you assume it is the only way to heal from your abusive ex, you did not intend to have such a handsome neighbor.This is my first fic EVER and I intend for it to be long(ish). Slow burn. Healing. Love. All that good shit.
Relationships: Henry Cavill/Reader, Henry Cavill/You
Comments: 5
Kudos: 44





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first ff evvverrr, and I'm very nervous about posting! If you guys like it, I'll keep updating semi-regularly. I'm pretty busy between schoolwork and just life in general, but this storyline has been floating around in my head for awhile and demanded to be written. I hope you guys enjoy! 
> 
> Also I know little to nothing about Wales so if anyone wants to correct me about certain parts, feel free!
> 
> Thanks <3

Bright, violent yellow sunlight bounced off of the collection of framed pictures and mirrors that you’d hung last night and helped to brighten the small bedroom that you’d piled the boxes that your mom had sent two days ago. Summer, and you, had officially arrived in the rural town in the countryside of Wales. 

Wales, really anywhere in the UK, had appealed to you for years; you had been charmed by the hiking opportunities of the Brecon Beacons’ National forest, wooed by the rural farms and quaint homes, and dazzled by the beautiful town markets. With your recent divorce, the opportunity to move had never been so perfect. You were lucky enough to be able to work remotely, and had saved enough for a generous down payment on the cute townhome that had caught your eye as you’d browsed through hundreds of properties while still at home in the U.S. Before you could second guess your decision to move away from the only home you’d ever known, you’d sent an offer to the realtor and crossed your fingers. The email inviting you to tour the property arrived the next morning and you’d booked your ticket for the next week. 

Escape. That’s what you’d wanted. An escape from him, from the friends you’d known, from the life you had once been so in love with. What better escape than in a small village in an entirely different country, on an entirely different continent, across an ocean. There was no way he’d be able to find you, least of all get here before you’d known he was headed this way. And if he did turn up, you were ready. Your friend, Triss, had dropped off the personal protection dog that she’d offered you after she heard your tale. Triss had greeted you with the keys to your new home that she’d happily picked up for you, strung on a large key ring, tied with a macramé braided keychain, and a matching collar for your new dog, Syl, to your new home and was thrilled that you, her favorite roommate from your ten consecutive summers shared that you’d spent at Camp Okeechobee as both a camper and a counselor, had moved closer. 

The dog, and moving, was plan b. Plan A was years of couples therapy, anger management classes, and, when that hadn’t worked, heavy makeup to conceal the bruises. You’d been with him since high school. You’d met in the cafeteria in junior year when he’d tripped over Davey James’ legs and dumped his entire tray of food on your shirt. You’d been FURIOUS and ran out of the cafeteria. He’d chased you into the girl’s bathroom, spewing apologies, and even given you his shirt to change into. It’d taken only one glance into each other’s eyes to know that you found something special. Everyone had loved that story. Highschool Sweethearts was strangers’ favorite thing to say at parties, while you clung adoringly to his large, muscled arm and stared into those same eyes, with a million-dollar smile spread from ear-to-ear. He would return an indulging, secret smile, give the audience a wink, and say, “I’m the lucky one.”. That always got a pleased laugh. You’d participated so heavily in the lie, you’d almost convinced yourself it was still true. 

With a sigh, you heaved the box of clothes into the closet and slid the outdated, wooden doors shut. You’d found your running shoes, bra, and leggings last night, but the final missing piece, your favorite mauve tank top, had been buried at the bottom of all those boxes. You’d wanted to explore the town, see the cute little houses, maybe grab a coffee, and what better way to do that than a jog. Syl had laid patiently on your bed, watching as you’d unpacked box after box, and had earned a good run. She had been easy to bond with, she’d immediately shoved her large, furry head into your lap and licked your face up one side and down the other. It was like Syl knew you were hers and she was yours the moment Triss had put the leash in your hands, and your worries about bonding with her had quickly disappeared. 

“Come on, girl, let’s go for that run.” Syl barked her agreement, hopped off the bed, and headed to the door to wait as you pulled on your gear. You swiped your keys off the counter and shoved them into the dorky fanny pack you’d had since high school that had been with you on every fun run, half marathon, and marathon you’d done over the last 15 years. 

Running was your escape, and you’d chased the high you got from the activity since high school. You’d never been known as the fastest one on your school’s cross-country team, but you were solid, took long to tire, and, most importantly, loved it. Triss had assured you that Syl loved to run and would be a great long-distance partner. This would be your inauguration run with her, so you were keeping it light, just to the square located a couple of miles away that’d caught your eye as your cab had driven through it on your way from the airport. 

The heavy, wood door shut with a satisfying thud as you and Syl turned towards the main road. Before you had the chance to pull your bulky headphones on, you heard a friendly, “hullo”. Hedges grew around your house, providing a good level of privacy, a must that you’d sought out when looking for your new home. You glanced over at the townhome connected to yours, but the shutters were drawn tightly closed. Either no one was home, or they really had no desire to meet you. Syl barked loudly and backed closer to you, something that made you quite nervous. You were easy to spook these days and the disembodied voice only added to your anxiety about being in a foreign and unfamiliar place. 

“Hi, didn’t mean to scare you.” A man with curly, chestnut hair appeared in a medium-sized space between the hedges, a large, fluffy Akita grinning at his side. “I’m Henry, your new neighbor.” 

‘Man’ was an unfair word to use, you realized as you unashamedly studied the stranger. ‘Man’ implied that he was of the same species as the common human you’d see on the street. ‘Man’ was almost insulting to label. This goliath was anything but common. With arms as thick as tree branches, and legs just as impressive, his blue eyes sparkled as his smile stretched from one ear to the other. A sharp jaw set into a strikingly handsome face. Grecian, gladiator, dark, hunter, sexual, impressive. You didn’t remember the last time you were attracted to a man like this. He had ruined men, and sex, for that matter, for you for what you thought would be forever, but this stranger who’d not said more than seven words to you had awoken something almost instantaneously. There was something about the way he stood, feet apart, military-like. You could tell he meant business and was not someone who was fucked with. Tall, but not overly intimidating. Strong shoulders that you were convinced could probably curl you without breaking a sweat, though you were sure you’d like to see him sweat while hulking over you. Your voice caught in your throat and you tried to croak out words, anything, to let him know you weren’t totally stupid, but you couldn’t make a noise. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he smiled again and you had to blink to clear your head of the fog that had set in while you ogled him. 

Idiot! You chastised yourself sharply. You made a pact with yourself, no MEN. No more getting hurt, no more fuck ups. Shut it down, stop being so horny, idiot. 

“You didn’t scare me. I just didn’t know I had neighbors so close on that side.” You composed your features and gave him an appraising up and down, looking for any physical weaknesses to help you out should he take a step closer. Jiu Jitsu wasn’t just something you did for your physical health. Syl had planted herself between you and the stranger and the stranger’s dog that was staring her down like she was just his type. Men, you thought as you patted her head and gave her the command to sit between your legs, a position that made it easy for her to take commands and was also quite intimidating. 

“I actually moved in this spring.” His voice was a deep, rich timbre, commanding, but pleasant to listen to. “You’re the first person I’ve seen. Your neighbors are recluses, so don’t worry about seeing them any time soon.” 

“Oh.” You paused and the silence hung heavy between the two of you as you tried to think of what to say next. What did this Henry expect from you? To have someone to share a beer with? Pop over for eggs and sugar? He didn’t look like a baker, and he was so physically fit that you doubted he was a “beer with dinner every night” sort of guy. Maybe he was just being polite and introducing himself. Remembering your manners, you closed the distance between both of you, and stuck out your hand. “Y/N. My name is Y/N. I just moved here from Arizona.” 

“Ahh. An American. Rare breed out this way.” He gave you another one of those cheeky smiles as he grasped your small hand with his large ones, and your heart beat a little harder in your chest. A sharp jolt went through you as he took your hand. As if to spite that annoying and unwelcome beating and the electric touch, you frowned slightly. “Beautiful dog.” 

Syl preened, as if she understood what he was saying as you said, “Thank you, this is Syl. Your dog is beatiful as well.... Akita?” 

“Yep! This is Kal. Is Syl a reference to anything?” Henry knelt down in front of Syl and stroked her hair as his own dog stood a way back, watching every move Henry made. 

“Yes, it's from a book series I love, by Branon Sanderson.” You’d made sure Triss knew your name choice when you had confirmed that you’d wanted one of her puppies. You’d planned to get a German Shepherd from Triss for years, her family had bred champion working dogs for generations, and when the divorce had finalized, you knew it was time to jump on getting that dog. Thankfully, Triss had offered to give Syl her basic training, and once you’d explained why you’d decided to move to Wales permanently instead of just visiting to pick up the dog and then returning home, she’d offered to train her as a protection dog for free, as a gift. 

Henry raised a hand to block his eyes from the sun as he looked up at you, and said, “You read Stormlight Archive? I’ve read it multiple times.” 

“Yeah, it’s actually my favorite series.” You smiled in spite of yourself, you were surprised that this gorgeous, muscly man had the brain power to read books that were each well over a thousand pages each. 

Henry’s dog let out an annoyed bark and Henry rose, wiping his palms on his blue tank top, and walked back to grab the dog’s leash. “This is Kal, Kal-El, like Superman.” 

“He’s very handsome.” You glanced over your shoulder, towards the road, and freedom. This gorgeous, well-read neighbor was making you nervous. Moving to the countryside had been a pragmatic move as you were sure it would have a very low supply of handsome, eligible men, and that would be less temptation for you. You’d sworn of dating, men, love, and you were sure that wouldn’t be too hard here, but it’d take only a handful of days for you to be proven wrong. Apparently, the countryside was full of handsome strangers, much to your chagrin. “Well...I was just about to head out. It was nice meeting you.” 

Without sparing a backwards glance, like a small, but loud and defiant, part of you wanted to do, you clicked your tongue for Syl to follow you and began your run, leaving Handsome Henry behind, still shaded by the small clearing between your shared hedges. 

A Week Later 

The run had been just what you needed. Satisfying, long, and beautiful. Syl had kept pace magnificently and you made a mental note to send Triss flowers as a thank you for the wonderful training. You’d found a pub, coffee shop, and butchery that were all relatively close. The flower shop you’d stopped in on your way home had been the best though, the window display had called to you as you’d passed. It held brilliant arrangements of tulips, chrysanthemums, daisies, and sunflowers. Colors exploded out of every corner of the display and the sign on the door had said that dogs were welcome, so you and Syl had decided to take a quick peek. Eloise, the older owner, had been beyond kind, even giving you a free rose, a little treat for Syl, and invited you to the book club she hosted on Monday nights. Something about the way the kind, older woman smiled at you with complete sincerity had made you feel welcome, and you made a promise to attend and you intended to keep it. 

It had been a week since you’d run into your neighbor, Henry. You made a point to avoid looking at the spot between hedges where he’d emerged from on that first day, but you caught yourself occasionally peeking over as you tended the small garden in front of your house. You’d only slightly hoped that your short sentences, clipped tone, and cold shoulder hadn’t driven him off completely. A few times, you’d heard him calling for Kal in his backyard, and had debated peeking between the hedges and initiating conversation. You didn’t want uneasy relations between neighbors, but there was something about this man that made you nervous. Not the way that he made you nervous, no, these were good nerves, which somehow made them worse. 

Eloise said that the pub you’d spotted earlier had an amazing fish and chips special on Wednesday nights, and you’d spent the past few days cooped up, catching up on emails, in virtual meetings, and calling your mom at odd hours to assure her, again, that you were okay and happy and settling in just fine. 

After a quick shower, you blow-dried your long brown hair and curled it with the iron you’d found in one of the boxes a few days ago. Running your fingers through the curls to separate it into nice, bouncy pieces, you grinned at your reflection in the mirror. You’d flicked a delicate wing of eyeliner on your lids and applied a light touch of makeup, enough to make yourself feel good, but not too much to be seen as inviting and looking for attention. You knew you didn’t need makeup to look good, you had never had too much trouble in the looks department, but it always gave you confidence. Tonight, going in to a strange pub, in a strange place, you’d need that confidence. You wanted to give off a good impression to the local people and looking good was just part of it. 

Before your plane had landed, while you were still stuck inside your head, thoughts swimming with endless self-doubt, worry, panic, his words mocking and belittling you, you’d planned to seclude yourself and make no attempts to initiate conversation or friends. A week of silence, Triss hadn’t been able to get away from the kennel, had left you craving some kind of interaction. Well. Not interaction with your hot neighbor, he still made you nervous, but maybe with some kind older bartender, or a group of bachelorettes out on the town, or a single mom working for a living. As you applied the finishing touches to your makeup, you fantasized about the kindly older bartender who’d look you up and down and say, “whiskey, straight?” with a cheeky grin as you walked up to the bar. You could see it now. Smile lines around his green eyes, good advice, and jokes, given freely, a “friendly uncle” vibe who would help you feel more settled. 

With one final fluff of your hair, you had to admit you looked pretty damn good. Black jeans with a small hole in the knee that your 9-year-old niece Jenna had assured you were in-style, a flowy tan muscle tank top that made you look a little bad ass but very cute, and black boots with a good heel made you feel cute, a little sexy, but not too inviting. 

You said goodnight to Syl and left her with a large bone you’d gotten from the butcher shop the day before. The walk to the pub wasn’t a long one, and with a well-lit street you felt confident that you could manage to make it there and back in one piece, but that didn’t stop you from putting the pepper spray in the inside pocket of your thick leather jacket. You popped your phone and keys in the other pocket and headed out. 

Once outside, you spared a glance to your neighbors. The adjoining house was still dark, but Handsome Henry’s lights were bright and loud noise thumped from inside. Great, you glowered over the hedges, at the strobing lights coming from the large floor-to-ceiling windows in the darkened great room that glared down at the street, a party that’ll keep the whole neighborhood up. 

You checked both ways before crossing the street and then made your way to the fork in the road that would take you to the pub. Weirdly, you realized as you passed Handsome Henry’s house, you didn’t hear any music. Odd. Shouldn’t a party be loud? You glanced around at the street that provided parking for some of the houses, no extra cars in the drive. Shouldn’t there be people everywhere if there’s a party? You shrugged to yourself and continued down the road as twilight melted into moonlight. 

The pub was just as comfortable, warm, and inviting as you’d expected it to be. A few booths were snugly placed against the oak-lined walls, a local band played in the background, a few groups of people were throwing darts and playing pool in one corner. It was comfortably crowded, the noise at a dull roar. It felt...symbiotic. Everyone was enjoying themselves, there were no established groups and people flowed around the room. Not a stranger was in sight, except you, of course. You realized you stood out like a sore thumb, but tried to hide your growing worry. While there was no older gentleman behind the bar as you’d imagined, there was an attractive young girl decked in goth garb who smiled as every customer came to her small bar of only ten stools. Customers greeted her by name, Isla, her faded name tag read, and you slid into one of the available seats. Sparing a vane glance into the mirror that hung over the bar before Isla could make her way over to you, you inwardly smiled as you saw a confident woman who thinly resembled you stared back. If you didn’t exactly feel the part, at least you looked it. 

“Hi, love,” Isla said as she turned away from a pair of women who were sipping on martinis and loudly lamenting over their husbands. “What can I do for ya? Food? Drink? Both? Neither?” 

“Whiskey, neat, to start. And maybe a menu?” You tried to keep your voice smooth and relaxed. She passed you a menu and you spent a few minutes pretending like you hadn’t planned the whole evening out for days. God, what’s more embarrassing, being excited for simple human connection, or planning out the entire night in advance because you’re so nervous about looking like a fool? 

“So, are you the new owner of the Louis’ old house?” Isla passed you the whiskey which you shot back immediately to help calm your nerves about being out in this new place. She placed a water glass to your right. 

“Yeah, I actually moved in about a week ago. It’s a really nice place.” You smiled at her and took a sip from the water. The crowd flowed around you, never pressing too close, never getting too loud. Comfortable. You felt comfortable. 

“Oh yeah, it's very cute. My sister’s ex boyfriend’s aunt and uncle owned it. I loved that pool in the back. You scored big, what with Mr. and Mrs. Louis needing to sell quick so they could pay off that loan shark. I mean who knew they were such bad gamblers? Really, it’s a shame they had to move back in with his sister, but hey, you got a stellar deal on that place. Actually, I was looking into putting an offer in, but then Gran convinced me to wait a little longer, and really, I never could’ve afforded the down payment. But a pool THAT nice and a deal THAT good. Damn.” You were sure Isla didn’t take a single breath the entire time. She didn’t stop dancing from patron to patron that sat at the small bar area, refilling glasses, collecting checks, removing dirty dishes. “I’m Isla, by the way. You met my gran the other day. She owns the flower shop. Mentioned you. Said you were gonna come to the book club. Let me just tell ya this, bring something to drink. You’ll need it.” 

“Aye!” A sharp voice cut from the other side of the bar. You leaned forward, around the women still sipping their martinis, and saw a guy in his twenties, large glasses hanging from the end of his nose and a thick book opened in front of him. “I picked the book this week and I personally think we’ll have some great discussion. No need for wine, just bring a brain.” 

He said the last word pointedly at Isla’s turned back. The man- though he looked more boyish- pushed his glasses up his nose and said with a frown, “You know, just because it isn’t one of those grocery store smut books you all love so much, doesn’t mean you won’t find some satisfaction.” 

“Sure, sure, Ned. Sure, sure” Isla laughed as she flipped her dark, red-tipped hair over her shoulder and came back to you. “Don’t mind him. He’s mad because he didn’t realize dating me meant attending book club with Gran and her friends, and spending nights at the bar. Not like I haven’t been here forever though, don’t know why he’s so surprised. Did you decide on anything?” 

You placed your order, adding on another whiskey and a Guinness while you waited, and handed her back the menu. “I’m Y/N, by the way.” 

“Nice to meet you, Y/N. Gran really enjoyed your company, said you may be a good influence on me, though I doubt it. She hates that I bartend, but if I don’t, who’ll run Gramps’ pub? Do you think you’ll be a good influence?” Isla said with a grin. 

You laughed and shook your head, “Oh I doubt it. I moved all the way from Arizona on a whim, I’m not really role model material.” 

You were feeling back in your element. The second shot of whiskey had hit your empty stomach and left you feeling a little warm and much more relaxed. While you’d never been a major party girl, you’d enjoyed some rowdy nights in college, and he had loved taking you dancing at bars, showing you off for his friends’ enjoyment and jealousy as he spun you around the room. The whiskey had carried you through those nights as it was doing again now. But this time you were in charge. He wasn’t here to ruin your fun or control the conversation. It was just you, and it felt nice, as if your cage had been opened. You spun the stool around to face the room as you sipped on your Guinness and studied its occupants. 

There weren’t many younger people, a small group in the back corner looked as if they were around your age, and of course, Ned, the man-boy, and Isla, but besides that, most customers seemed to be closer to Isla's Gran’s age. Not a problem, you thought to yourself, not looking for anything but good conversation. A heavy gust of wind struck the side of your body with such force as it whipped through the room when the pub door swung open. A large shape, features shadowed by the dark night at it’s back, illuminated the small space. The figure took a step into the room as the noise seemed to get louder. 

Handsome Henry.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I've done very minimal research about Wales, so I'm open to any critiques. Special shoutout to my girls in the group chat, especially Em, who motivated and encouraged me!

Even with only half of his face exposed to the light, he was magnetic. The way the light reflected off his tanned skin, it looked like velvet. You couldn’t help but to stare and gawk as Henry walked into the pub. He was fitted in a tight cobalt colored t-shirt, black jeans that hugged his large thighs, and a leather jacket, similar to your own, clung to his muscular biceps. A black motorbike helmet was wedged under one arm. The energy of the pub seemed to intensify as he strolled casually through the crowd. You took a long gulp of your beer in an attempt to hide your stare, but a sudden feeling of warmth clamped upon your stomach as he drew closer. From over the lip of the glass, you watched as people thumped him on the back, shook his hand, hollered greetings as he passed. He made a point to say hi to everyone who stopped him, and as he walked, your eyes couldn’t help but to followed his every move. Was it the booze that kept you from looking down at your phone or something else? 

The gossiping wives next to you chose this exact moment to make their exit, and Isla quickly cleaned their places. Before he could reach the spot, you quickly spun your stool around to face the bar and saw that Isla had placed two more shots directly in front of you. Without hesitation, you tossed them back before pulling out your phone in an attempt to appear busy. 

Without even a glance in your direction, Henry casually slid into the stool directly to your left. You could feel the heat rolling off his massive frame in waves as he settled. With an air of total casualness, he leaned across the bar as Isla, who’d suddenly appeared from the kitchen, threw your basket of fish and chips in front of you, barely missing the edge of the bar. She reached across to return the hug and squeezed Henry in an extremely intimate and familiar way. She rubbed her palms up and down, up and down, up and down, across his muscular arms as they held each other tightly for the span of too many heartbeats. He engulfed her tiny frame in his arms, and she squealed slightly as she said, “Hey stranger! I feel like I haven't seen you in, like, years. Where’ve you been hiding? Holed up in your house, again?” 

“It’s only been a week. Barely enough time to notice I was gone,” Henry said with a smile as he pulled away and slid a brown paper wrapped package across the bar to her. Your eyes hurt from straining to look at them from the corner of your eye, the warm feeling had grown intensely while you watched Isla press her chest against Henry’s. Nasuea and something a little more potent settled into every inch of your body. 

“Thanks! I’ve been waiting for, like, months for you to finish. Did you like it? I loved the world building and the romance, but like, what the hell was that ending?” Isla stashed the package under the bar as Ned slid down a stool to occupy the one next to Henry. They shook hands, Ned didn’t look the slightest bit bothered by the interaction between Henry and Isla, and Isla poured shots for both of them. She waved the bottle at you, silently asking if you wanted one, and you nodded. Henry, who finally seemed to notice who you were, looked over to see who was sitting beside him. 

You didn’t dare glance at him, in fear of him recognizing you and becoming annoyed that his rude, hermit neighbor who’d ignored him for a week and brushed him off so casually had wound up at the same bar as him. But the worry was in vain as Henry didn’t even pause to study your features. His eyes passed over you and moved to the man who’d just leaned against the bar to your right. 

“Eoghan,” Henry said stiffly. You didn’t risk sparing a glance at the stranger, but you felt like you could reach out and grab the tension that cut through the small space. Their mutual disdain occupied so much of the space that you were surprised you weren’t being suffocated from the sheer weight of it. You swayed slightly in your seat, but your eyes never left the dull glowing light of your phone screen. The tempo of the music in the pub suddenly picked up, as if shifting to match the interaction going on right over your head. A quickening base line matched the beat of your heart as you held your breath, not daring to move a muscle, like a rabbit caught in a snare. 

“Henry,” The man next to you said, just as tersely, and you managed to sneak a peek at him from the corner of your eye as you tossed back the rocks glass of whiskey. You didn’t really need another one, but the knot that had formed in your shoulders shortly after your divorce was steadily growing with the awkward situation you’d suddenly found yourself in. You decided that another simply couldn’t hurt. 

A noise of acknowledgement, almost a grunt, came from your left as Henry quickly turned his body away from Eoghan, and yours, and focused on Ned and Isla. The warmth you’d felt earlier quickly dimmed, but still didn’t go away fully. You heard the three making pleasant conversation as they caught up. Henry chuckled and waves of pleasure washed over you. 

“Hey,” said the newcomer who’d appeared next to you. He had a bright, easy smile that was disarmingly charming, and you had to blink in order to clear your head of the sudden fog it (or the shots) had caused. “I’m Eoghan. You must be new here, lass. We don’t get many new faces.” 

"Ah...yeah, I’m y/n. I actually just moved here from Arizona,” You said with, what you hoped, was a pleasant smile. You rotated in your stool to fully face him, the room seemed to sway suddenly with you, and you grabbed hold of the bar to steady yourself. Eoghan reached out a hand to catch your arm. His massive hand was warm and only a little uncomfortable as he pulled you back into your seat. Through your lashes, you gave him an appreciative up and down. His sandy blonde hair waved over his lean shoulders, messy but with a sort of intentional look. Like he woke up and just ran his hand through his hair, but it worked for him. A grin hung on his mouth like that of the Cheshire Cat. His eyes... well, frankly, they were just plain dreamy. A soft shade of brown that seemed to hold untold secrets, a girl could easily get lost in them. And from the look of him, you ventured a guess that many of the girls around here spent a lot of time doing just that. The pub’s emblem, an armored knight on a rearing horse, was stitched onto the right breast pocket of his black polo shirt, underneath his nametag.

You’d never seen a spelling quite like it, something that suddenly struck you as quite funny. With a laugh, you said, “You know, where I’m from, your name is a lot easier to spell.” 

“Well, lass, that’s because your people aren’t half as creative as the Irish,” His smile was positively devilish as he leaned in a little closer to you. This close you could smell something like sandalwood and mint coming from him. 

“E-O-G-H-A-N...O-W-E-N...well I guess you’re right. Why not use up those extra vowels if you’ve got them, right? This isn’t Wheel of Fortune,” You attempted a joke, and tried to cover the rising blush from appearing on your cheeks. 

“So. What brought you here? ” Eoghan said as he pushed his hair out of his eyes. 

“Work. New job. I just thought it’d be nice to live in a new country, experience new things,” You said. Eoghan seemed nice enough, but you weren’t going to spill your whole depressing backstory to the first guy you met at a bar. 

“Please tell me you’re staying for awhile. We haven’t got a surplus of beautiful women, and I think you might be the top contender,” He said with a wink. 

You laughed only a little charmed, but mostly out of customary modesty, “Well I bought a house, so another move isn’t in my future any time soon. Do you, uh, work here? I don’t mean to assume, it’s just the shirt and all.” 

A small part of you registered that Henry had turned slightly in order to listen to your conversation, but you brushed it off as you being too tipsy and instead focused your attention of Eoghan. “Aye, my Gran owns this bar. That’s my cousin Isla tending right now. I don’t start for another few minutes, so why don’t I treat us to a round to start off the evening?” 

Eoghan reached behind the bar and grabbed another bottle of whiskey, poured a shot for both of you, and raised his for a toast, “To a beautiful new lass, and a new friend.” 

You clinked your own glass against his and shot it back, and suddenly you couldn’t remember why you had ever stopped coming to bars. Being hit on by handsome strangers was always such a good ego boost, and it made you feel on top of the world. You gave him a big smile of your own and grabbed a fry from your basket of food. The warmth that had settled into your gut grew as Eoghan watched you delicately nibble on a fry. 

“AYE! Eoghan! I saw that,” Isla said as she shot Eoghan a withering glare while tending to a new set of guests. “Your shift starts soon, so you better stop flirting.” 

Heat flushed your cheeks as you realized what the situation had looked like. Your back was arched ever so slightly, chest out, cheeks flushed with excitement, and the nipped bottle of whiskey that casually hung from Eoghan’s finger tips didn’t help the situation. You quickly spun back to face the bar and stared down into the basket of food quickly growing cold in front of you. Eoghan sighed and pushed himself off the bar with easy grace. 

You swore you could almost feel Henry’s stare boring holes into the side of your head, and you tried to stop the warmth that was steadily consuming you. The whiskey was making you feel confrontational, almost like how you had used to be, back in college, before everything happened. 

The evening was bizarre in and of itself, but Henry’s lack of acknowledgement made it all the more uncomfortable. How could he just sit there and not say a word to you? He was the one who sat down next to you. Why hadn’t  _ you  _ said anything yet? It wasn’t like you were friends by any stretch of the imagination, but you were neighbors. The neighborly thing to do was to at least acknowledge each other. The  _ gentlemanly  _ thing to do was reach out first, you thought spitefully as you took another bite of your food. Fuck it. 

With a rush of sudden courage, you turned and met Henry’s eyes. You didn’t realize he had shifted and suddenly had come face-to-face, chest-to-chest, with a giant brute. The way he angled towards you, his whole body towering over your slight frame, completely at ease, it reminded you of a predator’s. Graceful, comfortable, completely in charge of the situation. A small smirk lit up his face and his full attention was focused on you. Again, you were distracted by the sight of him, a prey caught right in the predator’s trap. A shaking rabbit under the paw of a giant lion. Eyes of piercing blue struck yours and you suppressed a shudder at the intensity that burned within them. Curiosity, suspicion, humor, and something else, something close to anger, you thought. Just as quickly as all those emotions bubbled up in his eyes, they disappeared. A blank, unreadable stare replaced it. The words caught in your throat and you stuttered, “H-Hi. Henry, isn’t it?” 

“Mm,” That was it. All he gave you. You both continued staring, trying to study each other, for a small eternity. The room swayed around you, but Henry’s face stayed perfectly clear in your field of vision. “Might want to slow down on those shots.” 

“Excuse me?” The warmth that had spread through you suddenly turned to white hot rage and your cheeks flushed with anger. You had to grab the bar again to steady yourself from the anger that quelled within. Just because he was easily double your size didn’t mean he could sound so condescending and parental. 

“Seems like you’re having a hard time staying in that chair,” Henry’s voice was rich and deep; even when he was being patronizing it was hot, you had to admit. You were close enough that you could smell a mix of tobacco and peach, and something distinctly and completely Henry, rolling off of him sensually. It was intoxicating and you felt yourself subtly shifting in your seat to get closer to him. The smell alone was distracting, but when you glanced up and caught the smirk, the heat rushed back to your cheeks and wiped away all sweet intentions you had momentarily felt. 

“I am not drunk, thank you very much. And last time I checked, we weren’t accountability buddies,” You said and hoped it came out as casual and light, but you knew you hadn’t been able to suppress your anger entirely. 

“It’d be a shame to see such a beautiful and well-read woman fall on her face is all I’m saying,” Henry winked before quickly turning back to Ned. You stared incredulously at his turned back and contemplated just how many curse words you could string together to properly shame him for insinuating that you couldn’t handle your liquor. 

Before you could make a proper fool of yourself, Eoghan popped back up, this time behind the bar. He leaned one arm on the bar, between you and Henry, effectively cutting off his access from you. His head bent close to yours and he stage-whispered, “Lass, I bribed Isla to stay on for another half hour. The band is almost done with their break, why don’t we go dance?” 

The conversation- if that was even what you could call it- with Henry left you feeling as if you needed to prove a point. You weren’t drunk, not yet, anyways. Eoghan and Henry seemed to have some kind of mutual dislike, and he seemed like the perfect candidate to prove that you were fully in control of yourself. 

Somewhere in the back of your mind, a very small part of you was chiding over and over again, reminding that you were here for a fresh start not to dance with a hot bartender. You ignored it and instead jumped from your chair, prayed it didn’t look like an ungraceful tumble, and smiled wide, “Let’s go.” 

Eoghan laughed, a bold and light-hearted sound that made you feel...not quite warm, like Henry’s stare had, but it hit a part of you that you felt hadn’t been seen in quite some time. Something that your ex had stamped out from you long ago, and you’d buried it for safe keeping. He sauntered around the bar, flipping a victorious smirk in Henry’s general vicinity, and, when he reached your side, pulled you in the direction of the band. 

A dance floor was constructed in the space in front of the band; it was surrounded by a few high-top tables, and some couples were scattered in the small space, sipping drinks and waiting for the band to pick back up from their break. Eoghan walked over to the lead singer and said something you couldn’t hear, still holding your hand. The man smirked and nodded before turning to his mates. 

“What was that?” You had to raise your voice to be heard as the band started up on a familiar tune you couldn’t place. 

“Oh, I made a request,” He pulled you close and the steady thump of the drum punched through your chest. His body was warm, pleasant, hard against yours, and you both moved to the rhythm easily. Maybe, you admitted to yourself, the larger-than-normal amount of alcohol had settled nicely and was making you feel confident, because you, as a general rule, certainly did not dance so familiarly and close with strangers you’d just met in the bar. Or set out to prove a point to some random neighbor you’d spoken so few words to. 

The music wasn’t half bad for some random pub band, and their cover of Queen’s ‘Don’t Stop Me Now’ was something familiar and fun. Eoghan, still holding your hand, caught your other one and spun you around so that your back was pressed to his chest. His body was lean and hard against yours, and it wasn’t totally unpleasant. You’d spent a few nights in college dancing to just this sort of music in bars around Phoenix and the rush of memories made you laugh. The energy of the pub seemed to intensify as more groups and couples moved to join the dance floor. The muscle-memory of club dancing came back to you easily and you lost yourself and time as the music pulsed through the small pub. 

Eoghan was a good dancer, you found, great even. He pulled you close, spun you around, and smirked every time he caught your eye. More than a few of the younger girls, and guys, in the pub were watching you with something akin to envy. Song after song passed till you and Eoghan were both sweating. Throughout it all, his hands had begun to move lower and lower down your back to finally rest on your ass. It wasn’t uncomfortable, you’d danced with men before, but it was a little more intimate than you were willing to be with a stranger. His hot breath sent a shiver down your spine and you suddenly felt clammy all over. That same small part from earlier was now going positively ballistic, yelling something about how indecent this was for someone you just met, in the place where you were trying, somewhat unsuccessfully, to make a good reputation for yourself. With his lips only an inch from your ear, he whispered, “You’re a good dancer, y/n.” 

You jerked out his arms violently, the words were familiar and they cut deep. You suppressed a bubble of hysterics that had settled in throat. “I, uh, I actually have to go.” 

You practically ran off the dance floor and back to the bar, only a few spots down from where you’d started the night. Your spot next to Henry had been taken by a pretty blonde coed, but Isla caught your eye and gave you a less than approving before saying, “’nother shot, or did you have enough attention from Eoghan to get you through the night?” 

That had stung a little, you admitted to yourself. You hadn’t expected to become besties with her, but the sudden cold shoulder was a little unexpected. You slapped a couple of bills on the bar that you were sure would cover your bill and leave a more than generous tip. You made an honest effort not to snarl when you spoke, but you weren’t sure it came out even close to a neutral tone, “Just close me out.” 

The room spun around you and you could feel the night finally catch up with you. Whiskey, only a few bites of your food. It had really been years since you’d done anything like this. Going out to a bar, getting drunk, dancing with the first guy who looked your way, it was all so unfamiliar and you were ready to go home. You steadied yourself on the bar and closed your eyes. Breathe in through the nose, out through the mouth. Again. Again. You counted out a full two minutes' worth of calming breaths your therapist in Arizona had taught you before you managed to feel a little better. The flush in your body had subsided only slightly, but you felt like if you began the walk home now, you wouldn’t end up stumbling into a ditch. 

Home, fuck. The walk was going to be a bitch and a half, and you were fairly certain the only taxi was unavailable at this hour. 

“Girl, you’re gonna get yourself killed walking home in the dark in your condition,” Mrs. Eloise, dressed in a pink floral house coat and fuzzy slippers, appeared at your elbow and frowned down her nose at you. For such a small woman, her sudden appearance scared the hell out of you. 

“Mrs. Eloise! I didn’t expect to see you here. Uh...I’m, really, I’m good. It’s not far, just a mile or so,” The words rushed out of you and a giggle escaped at the end, almost as if to punctuate just how not-good you really were. 

“Call me Gran, lass,” She said fondly, before fixing you with a hard stare. “I know when someone’s drunk. Henry!” The small, sweet-looking Irish grandmother, turned away from you and hollered louder than you thought was possible from such a little woman. “Henry!” 

Henry had been fully engrossed in a, what looked like, a meeting of the minds conversation with the drunk coed. Her expensively manicured and dainty hands were wrapped around his heavily muscled arm, pretty blonde head only a few inches from his, and she was almost fully on his lap. She rocked back and forth on her five-inch heels and you were almost positive you could hear the slight slur to her words. The idea of her there, so close, made you sicker than the whiskey in your empty stomach. 

At the sound of his name, Henry managed to unglue himself from his conventionally attractive new friend and make eye contact with you. Seeing Mrs. Eloise standing next to you like some Irish Fairy Godmother come to rescue you from your own bad decisions, Henry slid off his stool and began to push through the crowd towards you. Isla and Ned seemed to have disappeared, Eoghan taking over her place at the bar. He didn’t look in your direction at all, even after his own gran yelled through the pub. Was she calling Henry over to confirm the amount of whiskey you had? GOD could this night get any more embarrassing. What was she even doing here so late? 

As if reading your mind, Mrs. Eloise said, “I live next door, lass. Isla was complaining that Eoghan was dancing instead of working. Nothing new, mind you, but she mentioned your name, and, well, I love that boy, I do, but you’re better than that. I thought I’d just set him straight, but I’m happy to see you did that already.” 

“Gran,” Henry said as he hugged the tiny woman. A corner of his mouth twitched upwards in a smirk as he eyed you from over the top of Mrs. Eloise’s head. You tried your best to appear completely innocent and sober while hiding a blush. “What can I do for you?” 

“Henry, I need you to walk Y/N home. Now, now, don’t start with me, just be a good boy and do it, got it?” Henry had opened his mouth to protest, but Mrs. Eloise held up her hand to stop him. “Make sure she gets home safe. You know Ernie would snap her head clean off if she called him for a cab, so don’t even start.” 

And just as mysteriously as she appeared, Mrs. Eloise melted into the crowd and disappeared. Some Fairy Godmother she was. 

“You really don’t have to, swear, I’m totally good, I could, like, run home and back in one piece,” You said with a very forced smile. The last thing you needed was to prove his earlier words true, and a whole walk home would certainly do just that. 

“I wasn’t exactly done here, yet, but if Gran found out I let you walk home alone, she’d have my head,” Henry said with a smile, then turned and started walking towards the door, not even waiting for you to catch up. The crowd easily parted for him, and for a second you contemplated waiting out his patience in the bathroom and praying he lost interest in walking you home. The BALLS on this man, honestly, thinking that you needed him, it was just ridiculous. 

The plan to wait him out would ultimately fail, you knew that much. Henry didn’t look much like a man to lose interest once he set his sights on something, and the last thing you wanted to do was disappoint or upset Mrs. Eloise. With a sigh, you pushed through the pub to follow him outside. The night air was heavy with the threat of a rainstorm to come, and you just prayed it held off until you made it home. 

“Honestly, don’t worry about me, I’d hate to pull you away from such intellectually stimulating conversation,” You said when you stopped in front of him, under the streetlamp across from the pub. 

The way home was...left, you thought. For sure not right, that would lead to the town proper. You were almost completely sure of it, enough so that you started in that direction, passing Henry, before his large, callused hand grabbed your shoulder and spun you around. 

“Other way, sweetheart,” The tone of his voice was light with the hint of humor, but his face, half lit by the glow of the streetlight, was intense. You withered slightly under his gaze before picking up the few pieces left of your pride. 

“I knew that. I was just checking to see if Mrs. Eloise had made it home.” You said over your shoulder as you internally chided yourself. Just put one shaky foot in front of the other, and attempt to walk home in a straight line. 

“Her house is the other way, too.” 

“Mm.” 

He won that one. 


End file.
